


Momentum

by oneprotagonistshort



Series: Wrapped Up [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 06:22:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/719861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneprotagonistshort/pseuds/oneprotagonistshort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Between Blaine's borderline sexual relationship with candy canes, Sugar's meddling, and a halfhearted attempt at superhero shenanigans, it's almost a good thing that Sam is leaving soon for Christmas break. Until it isn't. Until it is again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Momentum

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know. I'm the asshole who leaves something unresolved and then doesn't do anything with it for months. I'm sorry, I promise! I'll try not to do that again. Please forgive me?

Sam liked to think he’d done a pretty good job of not being obvious about what had happened between him and Blaine over Thanksgiving break, which of course meant he was wrong. Not _everyone_ had noticed, in fact, most people had been too wrapped up in their own drama to realize that the usually-close friends seemed a little... tense when together.

Of course, Sugar Motta was not most people. She might have been known to buy a few friends (not to mention a few cars, or diamond bracelets, and at least one small restaurant chain) but she was weirdly observant and more than a little persistent. She’d been eyeing Sam for a few days, but he’d just assumed it was like that time she had wanted to have a haute-couture purse custom designed and modeled after his mouth.

So when she sidled up to him after rehearsal one day he was prepared to laugh her off and tell the ridiculous story to... someone. Not Blaine, but Sam totally had other friends who would get it. Maybe he’d call Puck.

“Hey Trouty,” she said from behind him in that overly-sweet voice she used when she was trying to get something from someone. Sam smiled at the nickname that he’d secretly come to not hate, but no one had to know that.

He turned to face her, saying, “You know my name is Sam, right?” and was surprised to find she wasn’t looking at him with the feigned wide-eyed innocence that she usually used to get her way. She looked smug, and it was enough to make him nervous.

She put a hand on his arm, leaning in and lowering her voice to what Sam assumed she thought was a conspiratorial tone. “So,” she asked, the smug smile only getting wider as he quirked his head to listen, “since when are you and Warbler McHairgel doing the nasty?”

The way her face lit up when his eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open told Sam that he’d just given her all the confirmation she needed. “Sugar, we’re not- there’s nothing-”

“Oh please,” she interrupted, “I’ve met enough of my dad’s secretaries to know when two people are getting it on.”

“We’re not-” Sam brought a hand up to rub tiredly at his eyes before double checking that no one else was around. “We’re not getting anything on, Sugar. Nothing’s happening.”

She dropped the smug smile, but now she looked sympathetic which Sam thought might just be worse. “Ooh,” she breathed. “I get it. You’re like that one receptionist who my mom had to have fired because she wouldn’t stop calling the house.”

Sam, not for the first time while talking to Sugar, was genuinely confused. He grabbed his bag to have something to do, but turned around to face Sugar again. “Did you just call me a slutty secretary?”

Sugar actually laughed at that, and Sam smiled because at least he’d been wrong. “No, silly,” she said, still giggling. “I meant you look like you want something you can’t have.”

Oh. Sam’s face fell as he thought that he might actually have prefered being called a slutty secretary. Sugar patted him affectionately on the shoulder as he grabbed his water bottle and took a drink. “It’s okay, he’ll come around. If you ever do manage to get Blaine naked again, though, I want details. He looks like he goes down like a pro.”

Sam pretended he didn’t hear her laugh on her way out the door when he choked on his water.

\---

There were only two days of school left between Sam and winter break, and three between him and starting to celebrate Christmas with his family, a countdown Sam had been keeping for almost a week. Burt and Carole had been more than welcoming of him, but Sam hadn’t really been home since the summer. He missed his parents, and while Stevie and Stacey had seen a little too much to still believe in Santa, he knew they’d be excited to have a Christmas in an actual house. 

His desire to go home was only fueled by Blaine, who’d been getting progressively antsier as the holidays approached. It had become pretty clear in the days following Thanksgiving that he and Kurt were over for good, but that didn’t stop Blaine from looking uncomfortable every time Finn mentioned Kurt’s impending arrival, and Sam wasn’t exactly sure why but the way Blaine had left the choir room after Marley and Jake’s rendition of “Baby It’s Cold Outside” had Sam believing that the swift exit had something to do with Kurt as well.

Sam tried not to think about who Blaine would hang out with while he was in Kentucky. Thanksgiving had shown him that not a lot of people who came back were willing to waste precious vacation time navigating drama and would rather avoid someone they’d only known for a year than risk upsetting someone they’d been friends with for three. He’d made Mike promise to invite Blaine to something at least once but he had no way of knowing how it would turn out. He resolved instead to just not think about Blaine. It wasn’t like they were together, so it wasn’t his problem.

\---

Not thinking about Blaine got a lot harder when he sat down in English the next day. Blaine slid into his usual seat next to Sam, because as awkward as they sometimes got (Blaine opted for forced and overly friendly while Sam usually just ended up finding a reason to leave) they’d fortunately managed to salvage at least the basis of their friendship. They just didn’t really hang out alone anymore, which was mostly Sam’s doing. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if they did.

With only a few hours to go until break and in the middle of discussing “Brave New World,” Blaine wasn’t making Sam’s careful avoidance of any sexual thoughts regarding the two of them (well, in public anyway, what Sam did in his own bedroom behind closed doors was nobody’s business but his) any easier. Some club had been selling mini candy canes for charity since the week before and at any given time Blaine had at least four of them in his possession. “I’m a whore for peppermint,” he’d shrugged when Sam caught him handing over a five in exchange for a full bag. Sam had found it mind-numbingly endearing before remembering to crush it down so he could feign indifference.

Except today Blaine had apparently graduated to the full-size candy canes, and indifference was getting harder to feign. As they got closer to vacation, the teachers got more lenient about candy during class, so no one had said a thing when Blaine pulled one out, unwrapped it halfway, and started _going to town_ on it. Sam tried really hard to not pay attention but the book was really boring and he was only human. He could smell the peppermint from where he was sitting and by the time he’d convinced himself that looking over at Blaine for just a second couldn’t hurt, a quarter of the candy cane was gone and Blaine showed no sign of slowing down. 

Most people Sam knew got sick of candy canes after about five minutes, but then again Sam was starting to realize that he didn’t really know anyone like Blaine.

When Sam glanced over, he saw Blaine staring studiously down at his notes, highlighting something Sam probably should have been paying attention to with one hand while the other held the candy cane in his mouth while he worked. His lips were wrapped around it in a way that was probably pretty innocent but struck Sam as almost obscene, especially with the way Blaine’s lips were stained red from the dye in the stripes.

He snapped his head forward and tried to think of anything else. When the teacher failed to distract him, he pictured the least sexy things he could think of: Schuester in that ridiculous suit from his proposal to Ms. Pillsbury, hitting a mailman with his car, _Finn_ hitting a mailman with his car, but even that time when he was eleven and fell off a skateboard and broke his wrist in like a million places wasn’t enough to get Sugar’s words from the day before out of his head.

_“He looks like he goes down like a pro.”_

Sam was starting to see it. Blaine didn’t even have the courtesy to chew on the damn thing, and Sam cursed him internally because he’d hoped the crunching would kill the fantasy. It seemed like an eternity later when the bell rang and Sam flew out of his seat, answering Blaine’s, “Hey, wait up!” with a look over his shoulder and a yelled, “Gotta go man, catch you in glee club.”

Sam didn’t have to go, he had study hall next and Blaine knew it, but he’d make something up later. Until then, he made a beeline for the gym. The weight room would be open and relatively empty at this time of day, and he needed to work off a little excess energy. The cold shower he’d have to take afterwards had absolutely nothing to do with the plan.

\---

By the time glee rolled around, Sam felt appropriately guilty. Enough people had bailed on Blaine lately that Sam didn’t want to add his own name to the list. It could be argued, Sam supposed, that Blaine had bailed first the second he’d taken that phone call from Kurt, but Sam couldn’t really blame him for that. He was nothing if not loyal, and he was going to be nice to Blaine Anderson if it killed him.

He plopped down next to Blaine in their usual choir room seats, poking him in the side of the face with a candy cane and laughing when Blaine jumped and looked up from his sheet music. “Got you this,” he said, holding it close enough to Blaine’s face for Blaine to go a little cross-eyed in an attempt to focus on it.

“Thank you, Sam,” he smiled one of those stupid smiles that made Sam believe that Blaine was genuinely surprised every time someone did something nice for him. “Hey,” he added, nudging Sam in the side like he’d forgotten something. “Do you know if The Blonde Chameleon still has his mask? My sources tell me that Nightbird’s asshole former roommate Nick made a joke about the cape on Facebook and also happens to have a date tonight. It would be a shame if Nightbird showed up at Breadstix to humiliate him without his trusty sidekick.”

Sam grinned. “Well _my_ sources tell _me_ that The Blonde Chameleon will be Nightbird’s sidekick as soon a hell freezes over, but if we stop at my house after school he might be able to find the turtleneck and help create some mayhem.”

Blaine’s answering smile assured Sam that he was forgiven for any earlier weirdness, and as Finn tried to get everyone’s attention so they could start talking about the week’s lesson, Blaine and Sam finalized plans to meet after school to plot before unleashing chaos on Blaine’s unsuspecting friend.

\---

“Is anyone even home?” Blaine asked as Sam kicked off his shoes and threw his bag on whatever surface was closest. 

“Nah,” answered Sam, heading up the stairs with Blaine close behind. “Burt and Carole flew to New York to hang out in the city for a few days before flying back with Kurt, and Finn is writing love letters to Mr. Schue like in The Notebook or something. I don’t actually know where he is half the time.”

Blaine laughed as they reached Sam’s room and sat down on the bed while Sam rummaged through his closet. “So I was thinking for tonight we could go and ask that one nice waitress who likes you to put us somewhere where we can see the target but he can’t see us. I haven’t planned much past that but I’m thinking we should send over desserts with messages of congratulations on finishing his last round of gonorrhea meds. What do you think?”

“I dunno, man,” Sam said, emerging from his closet with a turtleneck in one hand and a pocket square in the other. “If we send him desserts he still has free food so even if he’s embarrassed he can turn it around and walk away with cake.”

“This is why I keep you around Sam,” said Blaine, smiling. “You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for.”

Sam turned back to the closet to give himself time to shut down the warm happy feeling that the complement brought on but he found himself speaking without thinking instead, “You know, we could just go to Breadstix and like, eat. Without the super suits.”

“What like recon?” Sam could hear the confusion in Blaine’s voice even though he couldn’t see it on his face from where his head was buried between two hoodies that were hanging where he thought he’d put the jacket for his costume. “I think we’re good on that. The only information I really need is that I have to get revenge for the time he put Crisco in my shampoo bottle and that he screams like a little girl when he sees a spider. Oh! Do you think we could smuggle live spiders into Breadstix? I don’t want to do it if it’ll affect their health code rating though.”

Realizing that Blaine wasn’t getting it, Sam stepped back from the closet but didn’t quite turn around. “I was thinking more like... just dinner. It doesn’t have to be a date or anything but if it was that would be okay too.” He didn’t know what it was about Blaine that made him say stupid things all the time, but Sam kept doing it anyway. Blaine probably thought he was the biggest loser ever and was silently judging him which would explain the lack of talking, so when Sam chanced a look over his shoulder he was surprised by what he saw.

Blaine was staring at him with those wide and stupidly earnest eyes that always made Sam think he’d either done something really right or really wrong and that Blaine was trying to figure out how to thank him or how to let him down gently.

Nervously, Sam started to backtrack. “Like I said, it doesn’t have to be anything, I just thought that since I’m gonna be gone for a few days it could be fun just to go and eat that tiramisu thing you like so much because if you were sitting there in that cape people would look at us funny and your friend would probably see you and besides that turtleneck is _really_ constricting-” he stopped mid-sentence when Blaine stood up. 

“Sam Evans, are you asking me out on a date?” he asked, and he was smiling a little so Sam took a chance and nodded. Blaine’s smile grew wider and he stepped right into Sam’s personal space so they were almost nose to nose.

Taking a shaky breath Sam said, “Blaine, I don’t want to be presumptuous, but is this a yes?” Blaine laughed and kissed him, smiling into it as he hooked his fingers into Sam’s belt loops. When he pulled back, Sam smiled too, but felt compelled to ask, “So... yes?”

“Yes,” Blaine said, pulling back so he could look at Sam properly. “I would love to go on a date with you.” Sam sighed, letting the tension bleed out of him with the exhale and Blaine must have noticed the relief on his face because he grabbed Sam’s hand with both of his and started rubbing little circles into his palm. “I don’t want to be presumptuous either,” he said, “but do you want to make out for a little while before dinner?”

Sam answered by surging forward, kissing Blaine with everything he had and pushing him back until the back of Blaine’s legs hit the bed. He could feel Blaine start to tug him forward so they could both at least be sitting, but suddenly Sam heard footsteps on the stairs. Blaine swore under his breath and pulled away so quickly that he actually toppled back onto the mattress, and Sam only had a few seconds to put a little more distance between them before Finn barged into the room without knocking.

“Yo, Sam, I forgot to ask you- oh, hey Blaine,” he said, realizing after a second that Sam wasn’t alone in his room. Blaine waved a little from where he was sitting on the bed and Sam cringed at how forced it looked. “What are you guys doing in here?”

Before Sam could even start to think about how to tell Finn that they were getting ready to go out, Blaine jumped in. “Sam left something in my car,” he said quickly. “I was just... bringing it back.” Finn nodded, and he looked a little disbelieving but he seemed to accept the lie anyway.

It was nice that Blaine and Finn had been able to stay pretty good friends despite all the drama, but Finn seemed to have forgotten that he’d come in to ask Sam a question, so Sam cleared his throat before prompting, “You forgot to ask me?”

“Right!” Finn said, back on track. “I’m going to the airport to pick up my mom and Burt and Kurt, did you want to come with or are you heading out? I’d invite you to join us, Blaine, but I know Burt invited you to go with him in the first place, so...”

Sam’s eyes snapped up from where they’d been staring at the carpet and he looked at Blaine, who appeared to be just about as happy with Finn for revealing the information as Sam was with Blaine for withholding it. “It’s fine, Finn. I get it,” Blaine smiled nervously. “I should be getting home soon anyway. Cooper comes in tomorrow and he’ll be crushed if he finds out I haven’t been keeping up with his twitter. I have a lot of reading to do.” It was a legitimate enough excuse, for someone working with a 140 character limit, Cooper managed to be incredibly prolific, but it was still an excuse and both Sam and Blaine knew it.

Shuffling his feet a little, Sam gestured at the empty suitcase sitting in the corner of his room from previous failed attempts at packing. “You go ahead, man,” he said to Finn, “I have to get my shit together before taking off. If I leave soon I can get there before my brother and sister go to bed.”

“Sounds cool, I’ll let everyone know you say hi,” Finn said, and with that, he was out the door and gone before either Blaine or Sam could say anything else.

“Sam,” Blaine started after a minute or two of silence, but Sam cut him off.

“So what’s happening here, are we doing this because Kurt didn’t want you in New York? Am I just the next best thing or do you actually like me enough to have chosen me specifically as your rebound?” He turned back to his closet, grabbing a handful of shirts that he knew he’d wear in Kentucky and throwing them into his suitcase. He’d planned to leave later but he was suddenly having trouble finding a reason to stay.

“No, Sam, that’s not it. I like you.” Sam sighed tiredly and turned to face Blaine, who stood to bring himself up to Sam’s eye level. 

“Really Blaine? Because so far your track record for liking me and your track record for bailing are kind of the same.” Sam felt bad when Blaine deflated, so he eased up. “I know you like me, but I don’t know if you’re doing this because you want to be with _me_ or because you want to be with _someone_ and I don’t think you do either.”

Blaine didn’t immediately respond and Sam knew he’d made an important point. “I should go,” Blaine said, defeated, and Sam put a hand on his shoulder to keep him from leaving on such a depressing note.

When Blaine paused and looked at him, Sam said, “Look, I’m going to be back in like a week and we can talk then, okay?” Blaine nodded and Sam tried to look less miserable than he felt. A few murmured goodbyes later, Blaine saw himself out. Sam could hear his car pull out of the driveway from where he stood over his suitcase, socks in hand.

It was going to be a long week, but at least they’d made some kind of progress. He finished packing and drove to Kentucky, too quietly hopeful to even call Santana.

**Author's Note:**

> There's one more of these in me, I can feel it. And I promise it won't be so depressing. I love me some happy endings!


End file.
